


McCartney Snack

by 1545011



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Allusion, Amputation, Bad end, Beheading, Cock Vore, Cum Digestion, Death, Decapitation, Digestion, Dismemberment, Fatal Vore, First Person Perspective, Gore, Hard vore, Implied Scat, Microphilia, Multi, Oral Vore, Reader dies, Rotting, Slight endosomatophilia, Soft Vore, Sounding, Vore, decomposition, huge cock, micro/macro, paul mccartney - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:47:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27773263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1545011/pseuds/1545011
Summary: This story draws heavily from the universe outlined in my previous work.Reader watches the deaths of their friends as Paul devours them. Reader doesn’t join them and is saved for something worse. Reader has a difficult fate to handle.
Relationships: Paul McCartney / Reader, Paul McCartney X Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 12





	McCartney Snack

There was Carrie, Alvin, Ben, and you. You had all made fast friends with each other as you relaxed in the awkward room you were all forced into. It was made specifically to contain you and your friends as its owner went about his day - Planning to eat you all by the day was done. 

You were so different from each other, but what held you in common was that you were all microcitizens. What bound you to the same death was the fact you were sold to a stranger as micros. 

Carrie was a standard micro. She stood 3 centimeters high, and had spent the entirety of her life living with her family. She should be turning 32 in just a few weeks, having surpassed the average life expectancy for someone with her condition long ago.  
But that didn’t make much of a difference to her captors, who had snatched her up after she had fallen from her younger sister’s purse while they were out. She was then sold for only five dollars, the details of her longevity along with any traits or achievements she had made throughout her life completely unknown. 

Alvin and Ben were 19 and 18, both 3 centimeters high. They were a little peculiar, because they had spent their entire lives living in a colony - Where microcitizens were culled periodically to be organized and sold to those who would like to eat them. Or any other purpose, truly. They looked very similar, though they were not siblings in the least.  
Despite their purpose being decided for them long before they were even a thought in their parents mind’s, they were both sold for five dollars each. The very same price as Carrie, who had graduated from university and lived her entire life as if she was over 5 feet tall.

You were more different. Your exact variation of genetic dwarfism has allowed you to grow to a height of 5 whole centimeters. Towering over your friends, you got to know them, and laugh with them as if you had been friends your whole lives. But because of your height, you were sold the strange man for ten dollars.

84\. That was the number of people a certain bass player had eaten in the past month. Of course, he had to keep count. He liked to converge with John to compare… Paul was in the lead by 40, but that was because they had such different motivations now. 

Nobody would miss a micro. This was such a fact that he didn’t feel the need to rationalize it to himself, there was no need to justify their deaths. Although, it would perhaps be easy to do so. 

‘I’m putting them to good use. My body digests them as food. Every fiber of them gets put to use, since they’re so tiny and all. I don’t even think they pass into my waste at all.’ Is perhaps something that he could use in an argument about the morality of his new favorite snack.  
That would still be completely untrue, because if you were to take a stool sample from Paul McCartney it would be full of the bones of microcitizens who had struggled futilely against the encroaching, wrinkled walls of his stomach as the man digested them. His body was already eating a healthy amount, enough to create waste. However, adding the micros into his daily diet hardly changed a thing, the calories of their entire body were so minute that it changed nothing.

Excitement kicked up inside of him as he plopped onto his bed. 

Paul had upgraded to buying multiple micros at once, complete with his own case for them so he could do a few more errands while he was out. It was a leather case for a pipe which offered peace of mind that his food would still be there when he returned.  
As the weeks had passed, he allowed more time to pass between when he had loaded the case with micros, and when he had actually taken them from the case to eat them.  
They were too tiny for him to read, but messages had been clawed into the insides of the leather case. There were the unique names of micros scratched in the leather, along with dates and birthdays - It was the crudest epitaph. One stood out, simply reading ‘Help’ with no punctuation. For Paul’s size, he could only see slight scuffs he could identify as evidence of the micros struggling and attempting to escape. Plenty of those adorned the insides of Paul’s case, but the stories of the people he ate remained - Unable to ever be read by the man who ended them for a snack.

Licking his lips, he pulled the case up to his chest.

He wanted to admire for a moment how much his appetite had grown over the course of a month. John Lennon had purchased four micros as one meal for the entire band. And now Paul was going to eat four micros as one meal for himself. He grinned at the thought of that.

Above you there was a sliver of light opening up, it was Paul unzipping the leather case. 

You and three other people scrambled for cover instantaneously. All were screaming, desperately trying to grasp onto any loose threads inside of the case in an effort to avoid capture. Paul had snipped the loops and pockets away to make it easier to wrangle up the micros from the case.

Just two hours before, you all had met for the first time.

“Carrie! Hide!” You shouted with panic upon the sight of Paul’s enormous fingertips entering through the zipper, tilting to grab the woman.  
“Oh God!” Ben clawed at his face, while Alvin shrieked with terror. 

Why play this game? It was universally hopeless. Paul grabbed her by the legs, pulling them with ease away from the scrap of thread she was clinging to. 

He closed the zipper back up, sealing the remaining three micros in the darkness. You continued to panic, understanding that it was all coming to an end now.

Carrie was kicking and screaming, the pressure from Paul’s fingers was incredible. Being caught between them, she was able to see how miniscule she was to him. For scale, her entire body could fit on just the tip of Paul’s index finger from the last knuckle up. 

As gentle as he could, Paul maneuvered the tiny woman around on his fingertip and raised her to meet his lips.

He was home alone for once, yet he remained in his own bed for comfort. The musician had noticed a new kind of excitement coming forth when he began to indulge recently, and this enabled him to take care of both needs if someone had returned home quickly. 

She was so small, he couldn’t feel her frantic struggling. The way her arms flailed as she had tried to rock and push her body out from between the man’s fingertips, it left no impression on Paul. 

He opened his mouth and slowly slid out his tongue, which was bright pink and glistening with saliva. The man had been salivating in anticipation, but still he had made attempts to slow himself down as he ate Carrie. 

Your friend screamed in terror as the enormous tongue approached her slowly, filling her entire field of view. 

The man kept his tongue sticking to her body, sliding the slick organ up and down her entire body repeatedly for taste. 

It was overwhelming for her, her skin was sticking to his tongue, which swelled around her and enveloped her before she knew it. She was helpless, and yet went against her desire to cry out for if she had done so, her mouth would have had some enormous glob of saliva forced into it surely. Paul’s tongue was twitching over her body as he took his sweet time licking her.

Carrie had transitioned to full body thrashing on Paul’s tongue, which he was beginning to retract into his mouth - This was the only struggle that he could feel from the micro fighting for her life. He licked the tiny woman right off of his fingertip, and now was beginning to pull her into his mouth.

Paul opened his mouth, his upper lip being an archway for Carrie as he ate her. Never to see the light of day again, she passed under his two front teeth and now was entirely in his mouth. His tongue shifted her to the back of his mouth, the sudden movement disorienting her severely. 

He was blushing now, this was his favorite part - Paul’s nostrils flared with a few deep breaths, finding himself becoming aroused with the thought of the tiny woman disappearing down his throat. With an audible gulp, Carrie was swallowed by Paul, whose eyes rolled back into his head as he did so. He moaned softly, feeling the bulge in his throat travel deeper, meeting Carrie’s destination down into his softly gurgling stomach. 

Carrie had been eaten by Paul, merely a hungry young man a full decade younger than she was.

Paul shifted around as he remained seated on his bed, his pants were getting awfully tight. 

Pushing the thought of Carrie inside of his stomach, which grew noisy with rumbles and growls as it began to grow active with digestion, the man reached for his micro case once again.

The three of you were blinded by the light appearing above you, the thick fingertips which had taken Carrie had returned. 

Foolishly, Alvin and Ben had decided to rush forward in some feeble attempt to make Paul back off. You could only watch in some unsurprised horror, as the strange man that bought the lot of you was able to pluck the two men from the case.  
Alvin was first, who ran to meet the enormous fingers squarely in the light. Ben merely followed, and found that he was not quick enough to escape his fate after they had closed in on Alvin.  
Ben was met with several options, but decided to cling to Alvin - The friend he had lived in close quarters with nearly his entire life as he lived in the colony of micros - as they were pulled from the case. 

You had remained in the dark, unmoving and watching with a profound sadness. The sound of the zipper’s closing was thunderous to you, and after the rustling thud of the case being set down for the last time had subsided, you were left alone with your thoughts. Perhaps it was in this state of mind that the makeshift epitaphs had been desperately carved into the leather lining of the case that sealed you.

Paul licked his lips as he raised the two men on his fingers up to his mouth. Behind him, he could see his dick becoming outlined against his thigh as he grew erect in his pants - This was all so exciting. Using his thumb, the man moved the two micros until they were shoulder to shoulder with each other, his own index finger pressing gingerly against their backs. 

His mouth opened once more for the second course of his meal. Around Ben and Alvin, the long, wet tongue of Paul swirled. His lips were almost closing around them both, perhaps it could better be described as pressing against them.

The two men cried and pleaded, screaming and wailing with terror as they were coated in the man’s saliva. The air was soon filling with heat and humidity from Paul McCartney’s mouth, but worse was the rumbling sensation of his moaning as he tasted upon their still living flesh.  
Obviously, it had begun as the same moan or hum that one would let out upon anticipation of their favorite food. But it quickly grew lewd, and the two men became aware of Paul’s motivations for murdering them remorselessly. Paul’s audible delight in taking their lives was ringing through their bodies.

On a whim, Paul had delivered a final lick to them both, his shining plush tongue filling up Ben and Alvin’s field of vision entirely - To them it had appeared as a twitching wall of glistening muscle. He could feel them struggling against his tastebuds, and he took a bite. 

His front teeth proved effective at taking precise and tiny bites, because he had met his expectation of decapitating either of the two men. 

Ben screamed, seeing the huge teeth descend upon him, feeling the saliva drip onto his body from the enamel that would snip through him. His eyes couldn’t be pulled away from the sight of Paul’s enormous front teeth, which hugged each other in the center of his upper jaw like best friends, to see the entire row of his bottom teeth swiftly coming forward to meet them.

“No!” Alvin hoarsely shouted, his arm pulling free from Paul’s fingers. It tried to smack the teeth away in some feeble attempt to defend his friend.

“Not him! Not Ben!” He sobbed, his lips trembling and eyes red. The fingers on his hand curled into a shaking fist.

A wet gush, blood erupted from between Paul’s teeth. This was followed by a crunch, and then several snaps. The flesh of Ben’s neck pulled slightly, and then was cleanly severed as Paul pulled away with his first bite. Paul’s most gentle nibble had severed Ben’s neck, and everything that it included - The thickest cords of the nervous system, the vertebrae, the tendons and ligaments of his neck and spine. A bloody mess, the fluids squirted endlessly from Ben’s neck and spattered McCartney’s chin.

Worse, his little chomp had taken nearly all of Alvin’s arm as his teeth pulled away. Alvin could see clearly with horror, the entire cross section of his upper arm.  
For merely a few seconds, he was able to view the wet marrow inside his own humerus. This was burned into his mind’s eye, and he screamed as blood had begun to rush forward from his unwilling amputation.

He writhed in immense pain, caught between Paul’s fingers. Alvin’s eyes grew wide, the hot blood of his friend from the colony they spent their lives in coating him as it was expelled from Ben’s open neck. “No!” Was shouted repeatedly, each utterance shaking and hoarse.

The micro’s attention was captured by another sickening sound. Another sickening, hollow crunch, and his eyes shot forward to see Paul’s lips as he munched on his dear friend’s severed head. The only thing that would make this worse, was if he was smiling. For then he could see those teeth which were killing them turn red as he chewed on the two men’s collective flesh like it was candy. Instead, there was only the lips of Paul pushing against one another as he chewed noisily on the human head. 

Paul himself was quite enjoying the flavor. His brain was creamy as it spread over the roof of his mouth.

“Aah..” Paul sighed with relief as he swallowed the remains of his first bite. His fears were confirmed, the glimpse of the man’s absolutely crimson teeth drained the spirit from Alvin.

There were no more words for Alvin to say, he merely tensed as the salivating mouth hovered over him. And as the deceptively sharp edge of Paul McCartney’s teeth closed on his neck, his final thought was that he could feel Ben’s remaining scraps of brain squishing against his skin.

He chewed Alvin’s head just the same, after he had bitten through it and pulled it away from his body with a greedy popping noise as his lips released the micro’s shoulders.

The headless bodies were next, but they lacked resistance. Therefore, Paul had simply decided to swallow them down whole - Their last impression on the world would be a nasty surprise to Carrie who was busy trudging through the knee-high acid seeping from the wrinkled walls of his tummy.  
She would find Ben and Alvin, touching over them in the darkness. She would call out to them, and then realize that they both had been beheaded by Paul’s two front teeth.

Paul laughed softly to himself, his eyelashes folding cutely over his red cheeks. 

The man was really, truly hard now. The front of his pants strained as his stiff boner tented it out severely, halfway down his thigh there was a dark spot where the pre was collecting on the inside of the fabric. He let out a small huff, his eyes blinked several times to try to clear his mind. He took in a deep breath through his nose, not wanting to disturb the blood which spattered over his lower lip and dribbled down his chin. 

A terrible idea had occurred to him, while his hands went to unbutton his trousers. Paul got to work on freeing his aching cock, lifting his hips from his mattress. It took some work, but Paul wriggled out of his tight slacks with a look of concentration painted on his face. His eyebrows knitted together, his bloody lips pursed quizzically. 

At last, his dick in all it’s veiny glory sprang free as he pulled his clean white underwear down. It bobbed a few times back and forth, a thick globule of precum dripping slowly from his tip. 

Paul hissed impatiently, picking up the case with only you remaining inside of it. 

The light stung your eyes, you had been in the darkness for much longer than before. That was so long, why did it take so much longer? 

No fight could be found inside of you to resist the fingertips which grasped you about your torso.

You were expected to be lifted up, and up. Instead, you found yourself being lifted up from the case, and over. This puzzled you, and you squirmed in Paul’s hand to try to understand what exactly was going on here. 

He was moving you over to his erect penis, which pulsed softly. The sight became threatening, it was monstrously huge compared to you. 

Sobs choked up in your throat. The thought of him smacking you dead with his heavy cock became apparent. You visualized the hard member descending upon you, sending your limbs scattered and broken around your crushed torso. His huge nuts would perhaps grind against you next, degrading your remains as he stroked his thick erection.

He spread your limbs taught and into a position that continued to confuse you, stretching you out into a streamlined figure. 

Your bare feet were lined up with Paul McCartney’s urethra. You could only focus on the viscous precum hot on your skin, sliding up your legs well past your ankles. 

But Paul’s face was twisted with intense arousal, his two front teeth which had killed Ben and Alvin still dark crimson peeking over his pursed lips. He hadn’t tried something like this before.

He was sliding you in, deeper and deeper. You could feel the flesh of his urethra spasming over your legs. You provided no struggle as the slit opened more and more, stretching over your knees now. 

“Oh..” Paul got an idea, it would perhaps make the process easier for the two of you. He let your arms fall slack to your sides, and then pinched you firmly, sliding you deeper into the wet slit at the end of his penis.  
His grip was so tight on you, you could see your ribcage curl inwards as he had winded you between his fingertips. Upon release, you sputtered and gasped pathetically for oxygen.  
Thus, you were effectively trapped with your arms pinned to you. He repeated his gasping ‘Oh’ again and again, each iteration more desperate than the last. 

Paul could hardly believe that he had been this patient, that he was able to hold himself back for so long. Surely, this was going to be a fun experiment for him. 

Your hips were sliding into Paul’s dick now, the urethra looked like a perfect circle around your body. Every little throb of the man’s penis you could feel from the inside, and see from the outside as one of his veins tensed over the surface of his cock.

It was all so sickening.  
You were watching this, seeing his urethra grow closer and closer as it spread over your navel… It bothered you severely, and you were unable to articulate exactly why.

It forced you to shiver with unease at the sound of the man’s deep moans of delight, absolutely ecstatic for pushing you around inside of his penis. That made you panic a little bit.  
However, it was far too late for you. Paul was enthusiastic, the sound of him groaning and licking his lips was constant as he was lost in his aroused high.

All that was left for his cock to swallow was your head. Understanding now that you would not come out had ignited something inside of you, and you let out a crushed shout - The pressure that Paul McCartney’s urethra was forcing upon your body didn’t allow for your chest to expand back once you emptied your lungs.  
With the last of your strength, you thrashed about. But this only managed to make his erect cock bob a little back and forth. All of the energy you could muster as you fought for your life had appeared just as a twitch in the bottom of the man’s dick.

Though he was panting, Paul had realized the significance of the moment. He wanted to send you off personally.  
He tried to angle himself so that you could see his face.  
You were grimacing, staring right back at Paul, and you squirmed inside of his penis. The blood of Alvin and Ben still covered the lower portion of his face, this was the last sight you had of any form of your friends. It was your time now to fulfill your purpose as just a pleasurable experience to Paul McCartney.

His eyes were initially squinted, every feature of his face was filled with signs of his latent arousal. Though as he started to look more at you, he had blinked as much of his expression off that he could - Save for his bloody lips which trembled helplessly. Paul’s big hazel eyes locked with yours as he opened them wide. He was cute. 

His finger pushed down on your head forcefully, and that was the last you had ever seen of the outside world. 

Inside of his cock, it was dark and wet. It smelled of Paul’s virility. 

From the outside, you appeared as only a bulge on the underside of his dick. 

The man’s hand swiftly went to grip himself, his expression folding back into one of someone only capable of erratically stroking his cock. He resumed to pant, his chest heaving and tongue lolling out of his wet, red mouth. All too quickly, the bass player was losing his composure.  
And how could he not? You can’t expect Paul McCartney to hold himself back when it comes to things along these lines.

Fingers squeezed himself as he rubbed his dick. Each stroke was forcing you deeper and deeper inside of him. That should take a while, considering that you were only a fifth the length of his shaft.

It was painful, his eyes squeezed shut from the intensity. But, he had desired to use you more than he valued his own safety. The circumstances couldn’t be helped - You were a larger micro, after all! 

It was all too much, his hips bucked forward and Paul was cumming. 

His eyes squeezed shut.  
Within his tummy, Carrie was probably thrown against a slimy pink wall in the midst of digestion. Surely, Alvin and Ben’s decapitated bodies along with any other remains were fast behind and ready to fall on top of her once Paul had finished moving.  
He came hard, his mouth stretching into a wide ‘O’ as he writhed. At the foot of his bed, his toes were curling.

For you, it was a gross rush of salty fluid flowing past you. You panicked, but then found that you were being forced upwards slightly. Hope appeared.

Paul’s eyes opened and closed in disbelief - He was still cumming. The obstruction of your body in his urethra was extending his ejaculation. The man’s chest rose and fell, and he remembered what he had needed to do.

Your hopes had been dashed completely, finding yourself still midway down Paul’s dick. There was hardly a reaction as appropriate for the circumstance as there was to simply sob about your hopeless predicament. There was no escape, your death will be simply pleasure to Paul.

His fingers gripped his softening cock, and slid you down the rest of the way with ease. Through his wet tube, you disappeared into the man’s body. 

Paul fell asleep, his own seed covering himself and his mattress. His teeth remained bloody, as did his chin. All of Ben and Alvin’s blood had been licked off in the man’s expressions of arousal.

But you got the experience of sliding deep inside of Paul’s reproductive system. As Paul lay snoring and exposed on his dirty mattress, his insides were pulling you deeper and deeper through his urethra. You went around inside of his urethra the entire way. Into his abdomen, you passed by Paul’s bladder first, and then down again. 

You descended down further, deeper into Paul, until you were forced through his vas deferens. 

The duct expelled you into one of his testicles. Upon arrival, you found it to look like a chamber just barely your size. The fleshy walls were slightly moving, sometimes pulsing. And from them was emitted Paul’s semen. You thought to yourself how lucky you are, that it was not certain death as if he had found himself in a stomach.

And then you understood, there was no escape. Perhaps there was a reason that only a liquid could pass through the man’s vas deferens. 

Unless you were willing to sustain yourself on Paul McCartney’s nascent sperm, it would indeed be a certain death - Albeit a slow one as you died in the Scouse’s testicle.

When the musician awoke, he felt his groin carrying a new sensation with it. He could only describe it as ‘heavy’ or ‘swollen’.

You had made attempts to nourish yourself on the first day, after finding that the chamber was filling with the his fantastically thick cum faster than you thought. It made you sick, it was so terribly salty.  
What ever did Samuel Coleridge say? Or, who was that? And why does that matter - Your mind was growing delirious from the dehydration. 

Paul continued his usual routine, masturbating as frequently as he desired which left your prison empty. When this happened, you were so desperate for any liquid to drink.

By the second day, you were licking the walls of his testicle in search of anything at all to drink. 

How far you’d come… He was still a stranger to you. The most you knew of Paul McCartney was that he had been the very same man to kill your three friends. You died inside of his sack.

Your body decomposed into his cum, but you didn’t exactly exit Paul until the sixth day. There, he had felt the same pain in his cock that he felt while you were entering him. 

Despite being decomposed, there were still a few solids left. Your bones scratched against his sensitive urethra. Some of them were fairly severe, rendering blood to seep into the cum as your remains exited him.

A terrible, gut-wrenching scream could be heard in Paul’s room as he was wailing from the pain. 

When he was finally done with you, you had been rendered into nothing more than Paul McCartney’s putrid load, which was streaked with red. Partially decomposed remains, entire limbs with intact fingers floated through the man’s sperm.

Blinking the tears away, the man had smiled at the sight. He finally remembered what he had done with that ten dollar micro had spent so long searching for. 

He wiped you up with a tissue, and flushed you down the same toilet he had deposited 87 other micros - The new total for McCartney was 87 micros eaten orally, and 1 with his penis.

**Author's Note:**

> I am aware that I wrote Paul with unrealistic testicles. Also, I feel like I could have done this better. 
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts, I appreciate every single comment that I receive. I would love to know what you thought of this.
> 
> Thank you so much.


End file.
